


a thief and a couple of toy cars

by chopslouey



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Best Friends, Cancer, Character Death, Children, Cute, Friendship, M/M, Sad, This has probably already been done, but im doing it anyways, im sorry, little kids, sick, tragic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:44:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chopslouey/pseuds/chopslouey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where harry and louis are kids, but only one of them gets to grow up</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thief and a couple of toy cars

"Hey Louis!" Harry squawked, little legs carrying him to Louis' bed at an incredible speed for a four foot tall human. Louis raised his head off the pillow and smiled tiredly at his best friend's goofy hair flying behind him. He was curious, as always, about the crinkled paper in Harry's hand. "Made you somethin." Harry heaved himself onto Louis' way-too-tall bed and carefully picked his way through the maze of wires. 

"Show me!" Louis giggled, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. He opened up the papery sheets for Harry to crawl under, satisfied by the warmth he brought. Harry reached out and smoothed down Louis' gown for him so he was very comfortable, and also so it wouldn't be in his way when he settled his face on Louis' bony shoulder. Louis took the large paper from Harry's nubby fingers and examined the painting. 

"Look, it's you and me swingin," Harry explained, sloppily because he couldn't seem to pronounce those pesky g's at the end of verbs. He learned all about those in school today, just not how to say them correctly. His teacher had then lead them in an art project, where Harry finger painted him and Louis soarin on the playground swing set. She'd patted little Harry on the back and said it looked professional, and that he should put it in a museum. And Harry didn't know what that was exactly, but he declined because this one was for his pal. "Because I missed you at recess today." Harry snuggled his head into Louis' shoulder, even though it wasn't the most comfortable thing to do. 

"Mom says 'm still sick," Louis frowned, laying the artwork down on his covered legs. He was kind of sick of being sick. 

"Will you be back tomorrow?" Harry asked hopefully, ready to race down the slides with his buddy again. Louis thought about the question for a moment, thinking about what his mom would say if Harry had asked her instead. 

"Maybe." He decided. Louis hadn't been to school in a long while; he was sure all his friends missed him a lot. He used to be the smartest in his class, too. Perhaps he'd still have all his gold stars on his chart when he came back. 

"Good." Harry wrapped his short arms around Louis and squeezed lightly. Louis kissed Harry's head real slobbery, like he used to do with his sisters when he still lived at home. He asked Harry to tell him a story, a funny one to make him laugh. Harry immediately dove into the intriguing tale of a featherless goose who really wanted to sing in the talent show, but had really bad allergies, so he kept sneezing into the microphone. Louis didn't question a thing. 

While he was talking, Harry played with Louis' short hair, pinching it and tugging lighting. He gasped and stopped his story mid-sentence when a small clump of golden brown hair came out between his fingers. "I'm so sorry Lou I didn't mean to, I'll put it back-" Harry rambled, near the verge of tears, reaching up towards Louis' scalp to replace the hair he'd accidentally stolen. 

"Look." Louis stopped him and ran his hand through his hair. It emerged covered in little hairs. "See? It's because of my medicine, I think." 

"Your medicine makes your hair falls out?" Harry asked, dumbstruck and perplexed. What kind of medicine made people's hair fall out? Louis shrugged and shook his hand over the edge of the bed, letting his hair fall to the floor. "Does it hurt?" 

"Nope."

"Oh." They lay in silence for awhile because Harry could tell Louis was tired. Louis was never one for extended silence, though, so it wasn't long before he spoke again.

"Harry?" Louis whispered, scooting down to put his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry let him trade their positions. "Are you still gonna be my friend if I don't have hair?" he asked quietly, twisting his fingers through Harry's baggy shirt. It was a bit feminine; probably a hand-me-down from Gemma. 

"Don't be silly!" Harry advised. "We'll always be best friends."

"You think?"

"Yep." 

"Okay. Thank you. Me too." It was as deep as a conversation between kids still in primary school could get. They fell asleep together, obviously warn out by the intensity of their words. Louis' nurse woke Harry when his mom came back to pick him up and Harry put his painting on the low shelf for safe keeping before he left. He mumbled a goodbye to the still sleeping Louis and told his mom about the crazy medicine that made Louis' hair come out. His mother told him it was called chemo. 

 

♛ ♛ ♛

 

Harry slipped into Louis' hospital room two days later while Louis was watching cartoons with the lights out. "Hi Louis!" Harry said, dropping his backpack on the floor. Louis yelped at his voice and ducked under the covers. "Louis?"

"Go away!" Louis shouted from under the sheets. 

"But I brought my cars!" Harry referenced the stash of plastic toy cars stowed away in his bag. "Louis!" Harry checked the bed and, seeing Louis wasn't hooked up to all those scary beeping machines, jumped onto the mattress and (carefully) tried to pry the covers away. 

"Harry stop!" Louis called, but he couldn't put up as good a fight as Healthy Harry, even though Louis had two years on him. Harry uncovered Louis' head and his eyes went wide. "Don't laugh at me, okay." Louis said, covering his face with his hands. But Harry wasn't laughing at all. Instead, he reached up and rubbed the top of Louis' head with the palm of his hand. 

"It feels nice." Harry commented, and Louis dropped his hands from his face. 

"Looks stupid." he grumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment. 

"No it doesn't. It looks handsome." Harry nodded. Louis had no hair. Well, he had some of it. It was a very short cut, leaving a little fuzz. "Did the medicine take it all away?" It happened awfully quick, Harry thought. Louis shook his head no.

"I got it cut because I didn't like it when my hair fell out." Louis explained, defeated. Harry touched the top of Louis' head again with the pads of his fingers. He liked how it felt. Louis grabbed a pinch of Harry's hair and pulled on it longingly. Louis couldn't wait for his to grow back. 

 

Harry fell asleep with his hand on Louis' head, Louis having drifted off before him as Harry massaged his skull. He woke up in his own bed at home on Saturday morning and the first thing Harry did was tell his family about Louis' fancy new hair.

 

♛ ♛ ♛

 

After an hour of begging and whining, Harry got his way; Anne drove him to the Children's Hospital after church. He had a wee bit of homework to complete before Monday, but he just had to show Louis what he'd done. Besides, it was only his times tables. They could wait. 

"We gotta be quick, H. I've got stuff to do, as well." His mother told Harry. He nodded furiously and bounded down the hallway, racing towards Louis' room. He burst through the door a bit too suddenly, making Louis jump. Harry loped into the room and plopped himself next to Louis on the rug. 

"LOUISLOOKWHATIDID!" He screeched, shoving his head in Louis's face. Louis dropped his jaw and the toys in his hands to grab Harry's head and stare. 

"Harry!" Louis exclaimed, shocked and a bit confused. 

"I got a hair cut, too!" And he did. Harry shaved off all his hair; well, his hairdresser did. Now he had a fuzzy head, just like Louis! The older boy tilted Harry's head around in his grip to see it from all angles. It was a dramatic change. 

"Why'd you do that?" Louis questioned, releasing Harry's head and gawking at it. 

"So you wouldn't be all alone." Harry said quietly, a wild smile on his face. Louis lurched forward and tackled Harry into a hug, burying his face in Harry's neck. Harry immediately hugged him back, cautious not to squeeze as hard. After another intense, emotional session, Harry and Louis wore themselves out playing monster trucks with the hospital's toys. A nurse came in after a few minutes to help Louis back into his bed. She hooked him up to those pesky tubes and stuff as Harry held Louis' hand. "How come he's got all those machines in him?" Harry asked the tall nurse. 

"It makes him stronger." the nurse answered, pushing a whole lot of buttons. 

"Because he's sick?" Harry wanted to clarify.

"Because he's sick." she confirmed, scribbling on her clipboard. 

"Well when's he gonna get better?" Harry sighed. Louis had been in the hospital for a super long time. Harry missed sleeping over at Louis house and spying on his little sisters. Or playing tag on the playground after school. Or dressing up as a princess to make Louis roll on the floor, caught in giggle fits. 

"I'm not sure." The nurse shrugged. Her answer did not satisfy Harry. He wanted a REAL answer, one that would tell him when Harry and Louis could go home and play Kings and Queens again.

"But he's my best pal." Harry emphasized the last two words for effect, squeezing Louis' hand. The nurse didn't get to respond, because Anne came in and told Harry it was time to go. He waved goodbye at Louis on his way out, but Louis was already asleep. "He's super tired because we played monster trucks and I beat him," Harry told his mom on the way to the car. Anne just nodded and sped home. She called Johanna, Louis' mom, and invited her over to their house for lunch. This was a regular occurrence lately.

Jay arrived late afternoon while Harry was coloring his favorite book in the living room. Anne took her straight to the kitchen, where she had tea and sandwiches prepared. They talked with hushed voices, which was totally not okay with Harry. Unwilling to be left out of the conversation, Harry scrambled upstairs and knocked on Gemma's door. She greeted him with a doll in hand. 

"Wanna play spies with me?" Harry offered. Louis would've been his first choice for the job, but he was obviously not on duty. Gemma politely declined him; she was in the middle of a very important tea party, so perhaps next time. Slightly deflated and completely friendless, Harry grabbed his spy sunglasses from his room and sneaked back downstairs. He tiptoed through the hallway and crawled into the kitchen, hiding behind the island to listen. 

"... and the treatment isn't having as great an effect on Louis as they'd hoped..." How dare they talk about Louis without inviting Harry to join! Didn't they know Louis was Harry's best friend?! It was now Harry's obligation to listen and report back to Louis everything their moms said.

"He fell asleep before Harry could even walk out the room today." he heard Anne say. They were talking about him, too! The spy mission had suddenly turned dangerous; Harry couldn't reveal his hiding place to the enemy while they were discussing such important matters. 

"He's wiped out from all the medication and procedures." Jay sighed. There was lots of silence in which Harry had to be very still in. He did not want to be discovered yet.

"He's got another scan scheduled in a few days to check the chemo progress." Jay spoke up after a few minutes. "And I'm not like, a psychiatrist or anything, but not a singe doctor seems too hopeful about it." 

And then Harry did the most un-spy-ish thing ever and sneezed so hard his glasses fell to the floor. Louis would've thumped him on the head and took off, screeching and laughing wildly. But Louis was not here. 

"Gem? Harry?" Anne called, and Harry poked his head out. "Go finish your coloring, babe." she instructed. She seemed very serious, so Harry thought it a good idea to obey. He returned to the living room and picked up his crayon sadly.

♛ ♛ ♛ 

Harry finally got to visit Louis after his scan on Thursday. He bought a flower with his own allowance and tied a ribbon on the stem, but Louis was asleep when Harry arrived. 

"I thought Louis was too old for naps," Harry commented to his mom, a little disappointed that Louis wasn't awake for him. Again. 

"Louis is fighting an illness, honey. He's tired." Harry nodded and put the flower on the windowsill, that way Louis could see it when he woke. 

"Bye, Louis." Harry patted Louis' hand and left, waving goodbye at the familiar nurses on his way out of the building.

Many of Harry's trips to see Louis happened similarly. Louis was either fast asleep when Harry and Anne got there, or he drifted into slumber during the time Harry was there. One afternoon, Harry made Anne stay at the hospital even while Louis slept, so he could hold Louis' hand during his shots. 

"What is Louis sick with?" Harry asked that day. Harry was confused, because his friend Aaiden had gotten sick with the flu, but he was only gone for a week. Louis had been gone for much, much, longer. 

"He's got cancer. Do you know what that is?" Anne sighed, seeing no way to sugar coat the news. Harry shook his head nervously. He'd never heard of cancer before. He knew about fevers and colds and flues and sniffles, but cancer? It was foreign to him.

"Is it like the flu?" Harry asked just to make sure. 

"Well, not quite. It's a different kind of illness." Harry looked up at her with wide eyes, eager to finally learn what was going on with his best friend. 

"What kind, then?" 

Anne used lots of big words. Lots of them Harry couldn't even pronounce in his mind, but his mom had helped him say a few like 'terminal' and 'leukemia'. Harry wasn't confident with with Anne was saying, exactly. 

"There's lots of different cancers, in different parts of your body. Some of these cancers don't have cures. Louis has one of the cancers that can't be fixed very easily." 

"They can't fix him?" Harry asked, his stomach dropping like he was on a roller coaster. He understood that part well enough.

"Not at the moment, no." Anne took a deep breath and hugged her son tight, holding his head to her shoulder with one hand. It was difficult enough explaining what was happening to Louis while he was alive; Anne didn't want to have to have a similar conversation if he wasn't. 

♛ ♛ ♛ 

It was too long until Harry saw Louis again. Over a week; he'd been counting on the calender in the kitchen. Apparently Louis had a lot of medical procedures scheduled over the the week, and he wasn't in any condition for visitors. Harry had pouted and brooded the entire time, refusing to participate in art class or play on the playground during recess. But finally, on a Saturday afternoon, Harry raced down the hallway to Louis' hospital room, not bothering to wait for his mom to catch up before opening the door. 

There was someone laying in the bed, but he was too pointy and pale to be Louis. Louis had never looked sick to Harry, but now he had no hair and double the scary machines hovering over him and papery skin and he was very still. "Louis?" Harry whispered, lingering in the doorway. The shallow-breathing figure stirred. Louis turned his head and smiled at Harry, relieving any fear Harry had before. The smile was so Louis that Harry shot over to the bed and kissed his forehead. 

"You scared me." Harry informed Louis and Louis apologized quietly. He grabbed Louis' hand and started playing with his fingers. "How did your tests go?" 

"Um..." Louis hummed, brow slightly furrowed. Nobody had told him how he did on the tests, actually. The doctor had said they were supposed to make him feel better, but Louis felt significantly worse every time the sun rose. Just then, Louis' regular nurse entered the room with Anne at her side. 

"Hey! Do you know how Louis did on his tests?" Harry asked the nurse in Louis' silence. The nurse cleared her throat and began to check Louis' vitals. Harry was confused why it took the nurse so long to answer, so he prompted her again. "Did he make good grades?"

"They're very hard tests, kid. Not many people do well." She told him, looking at Anne cautiously as she spoke. Anne brought her fingers to her temples and rested her weight against the wall. Harry looked back and forth between the two women, frowning. He hated grown-ups.

"But Louis is the smartest kid in his class." Harry defended his friend, looking down at the genius boy. Louis blinked up at him and smiled softly as if to say thank you. Harry beamed down in return, since they were doing the talking-with-no-words thing. 

"I'm sure he is." The nurse said, dropping the matter. Harry shrugged and turned his full attention to playing This Little Piggy with Louis' fingers. His piggies were cold and webbed with blue veins, but Harry continued with the song anyways. The nurse came and stuck a needle through Louis' bicep and messed with the thing that's always sticking out of his wrist. 

"Doesn't that hurt?" Harry wondered, imagining that it must. He couldn't imagine having all those sharp things in his body all the time. Louis shook his head bravely. 

"Not anymore." He replied, eyes dropping a bit. He was tired, and rightfully so. Harry had recently learned that it look lots of energy to fight his cancer. Harry watched him slowly fall asleep, jaw going slack and eyes shutting completely, and then let go of Louis' hand. Johannah and her husband walked through the door then, clad in work clothes and a brief case strapped over her shoulder. 

"Hey, Anne." Jay greeted her sadly with a hug. She sounded so empty and upset that Harry went over to her and hugged her quickly. He really loved Louis' mom; she used to make blue pancakes for the boys when they had sleepovers on Fridays. "Hi, Harry."

"Dr. Beck is in the conference room," The nurse said to Louis' parents, and they both nodded solemnly. Anne reached down and took Harry's hand, pulling him lightly towards the door.

"Let's go, bud."

"But we just got here!" Harry whined, looking back desperately at Louis. His visits were growing shorter and shorter, and that wasn't fair.

"Louis' parents are having a meeting, we can come back later." Anne pulled Harry out of the room after he said his goodbye to his snoozing boy. Harry could hear Jay's heels clicking on the white tile as they headed in opposite directions. Harry wondered if they were meeting to talk about Louis' grades on his tests, so he asked Anne about it.

"They are." She confirmed his suspicions. Harry's throat got tight; he gets in big trouble when he makes poor grades in school, and he hoped Louis wouldn't get scolded for his.

"Is he in trouble?" Harry asked in a small voice, afraid of the answer. But it never came. 

♛ ♛ ♛

On Monday, after Harry collected his now dry painting of two boys holding hands on the sidewalk, Anne picked him up from school. Gemma and Harry's dad were waiting for them in the car, which was a rare occurrence. Harry tackled Gemma into a hug, the arm rest stabbing his gut painfully, and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. He was shocked when she didn't recoil or push away from him. He was even more surprised when she hugged him back without Anne telling her to. He expected his dad to turn around from the driver's seat and snap a picture of the two siblings showing affection. 

It was only then did Harry realize how quiet his family was. They weren't chatting away about each other's days like normal. They hadn't even greeted Harry after his long day at primary school. A terrible thought struck him then- he was in trouble. He had to be. His face fell as he recalled sticking his tongue out at the boys on the playground. His teacher must have told Anne when she picked him up, and now he was going to get his toys taken away.

"Hey bud, we're going to visit Louis." Anne said as they began to drive away. Harry smiled a bit; maybe he wasn't in trouble after all.

"Did you bring my cars to play with?" Harry asked, forgetting about his family's awkward behavior instantly.

"Not today, Harry." His dad answered. He was speaking in his specific tone, the one with so much authority that it intimidated any noise after it. The car ride was silent until they arrived at the hospital. Maybe it was Gemma who was in trouble.

When they got out of the car in the parking garage, Harry asked his dad to carry the painting for him so he could race down the hallway. Harry was wearing his new sneakers, the ones that lit up when he ran fast. He knew Louis would be jealous of them because they had spider man on the sides and the lines flashed blue and red like a police car. He stomped down the hall, watching the lights reflect onto the shiny white walls, until he reached Louis' room. He opened the door and was met with darkness.

"Hi Louis." Harry said softly, just in case Louis was asleep, or had a headache. Harry's parents and sister walked up behind him seconds later, Anne nudging him inside. "I think he's sleeping." Harry explained, unable to see Louis' face at his low angle.

"He's awake." Anne promised, so Harry walked slowly towards the bed. When he got closer, he saw Louis' long eyelashes flutter. Harry reached out and touched Louis' hand, elated when Louis turned his palm upwards for Harry to hold. He squeaked in his splendor, but the joyous sound was discouraged by Louis' lack of response. He hadn't even turned his head to look at Harry yet.

"Um, I made you another paintin," Harry mumbled as he leaned against the bed. He gripped Louis' hand, silently telling himself to pronounce the 'g' next time. Harry really wanted to just crawl into the bed with Louis and rub his head, but Louis was blocked by a tangled wall of wires. He even had a tube up his nose holes.

Louis finally tilted his head to face Harry's dad. He held up the large paper, although the painting was difficult to see in the dark room. The very corners of Louis' mouth curled up the smallest degree. His eyes were halfway closed as he looked to Harry, the purple veins obvious on his eyelids. He looked pointy and pale again; nothing like the Louis that Harry knew.

"Hey, Lou." Gemma spoke, coming up behind Harry and smiling down unevenly. She was only a few years older than Harry, but she was poised like their mother.

"Hi." Louis' croaked, like something was in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" Gemma asked, making Harry jealous by how well she pronounced her g's. Louis took a long time to answer, almost like he hadn't realized the question was for him.

"Head hurts." He mumbled, frowning a bit. Harry frowned with him. This was a hospital! Didn't they have medicine for head aches? Gemma told Harry to press the glowing green button on the side of Louis' bed. It was for the pain medication. When he pushed on it, the button stopped glowing and Harry recoiled. Gemma touched his shoulder and explained that it would stay dark until it was time for Harry to press it again.

He stared warily at the beeping machines that seemed to have multiplied since the last time Harry visited. They squeaked and buzzed and ticked, flashing lights and squiggles and zig-zags in greens and reds and blues. Something at the foot of his bed rumbled lowly, the fan whistled as it swiveled, the window creaked on occasion. The whole room was talking to make up for the human's silence. Elevators down the hall dinged, nurses' voices echoed, the floor protested against the weight of all the carts and beds being wheeled down the hallway. Harry didn't like hospital noises.

"You're so lucky you weren't at school today." Harry chatted, hating how quiet everyone was being. "Miss Chapman made us do a silent lunch because the Big Kids were throwing food." 

Louis breathed a tense laugh. Harry adjusted the blankets so they covered Louis' chest, just how he liked them. "Thanks, Haz." Louis shuddered, even though Harry thought it was kind of hot in here.

"You're welcome." Harry said as Louis' whole family entered the room. The girls held cards covered with crayon and marker, and Jay had a balloon. She pushed her daughters forward as their eyes widened at the sight of their older brother. They put their cards on top of Harry's painting on the low shelf and stared in fear at the hospital bed, refusing to get close. Harry was offended for Louis.

"It's just his medicine." Harry snapped quietly, leaning against Louis' bed to prove its innocence. Felicity gulped and shuffled next to Harry.

"Hi, Fizzy." Louis blinked heavily up at her, making her smile.

"Hi Lou," Lottie spoke up and took her place next to her sister. All three of the children lined one side of the bed and just looked at Louis with large eyes. Louis felt as if he was in a museum exhibit, like the one he saw on a field trip. Harry still held his hand, waiting for Louis to hold it back. Louis didn't recognize his hand was being held.

Harry didn't quite understand why both families were crammed into Louis' room together. The Tomlinsons and the Styles almost never visited at the same time, because the amount of people in such a small space overwhelmed Louis. But Louis didn't seem to mind, or even realize how many people were standing around him. Harry felt a bit stressed, and he was naturally worried that Louis was too.

The next noise was the sound of Lottie's sniffles as she began to cry helplessly. Her parents didn't notice her muffled tears, but Fizzy did, and she hugged her sister. Harry looked up at Gemma to make sure her eyes were still dry. They were, but Gemma slipped her arms around Harry's narrow shoulders and embraced him for the second time today. Harry hugged her back with one arm, because he refused to let Louis go. He was confused. He didn't know why everyone was being so strange and sad. He wanted to tell Louis stories and show him the flashing shoes and play with their hot wheels, but it didn't seem appropriate. That was kind of scary and Harry didn't know why.

Anne stepped forward and bent down behind the kids. "Why don't you take the girls and play with the toys on the floor?" She gave Harry a little push. Harry obeyed, because no one seemed to be in the mood for argument. The girls followed him to the rug and made a circle on the floor. They picked up the lego blocks from a chest and started to make buildings halfheartedly. Harry didn't even feel like participating; girls didn't know how to build stuff like he and Louis did.

Jay and her husband were kneeling by Louis's bed when Harry looked over, and he watched them bow their heads over his body. Harry thought that they were praying, but he'd never seen anyone cry while they prayed before. Apparently Jay did. Anne placed a comforting hand on Jay's heaving shoulder. Harry felt like crying too, because everyone else was crying. But Harry was eight now, and big boys didn't cry in front of girls. So he fiddled with the plastic building blocks, waiting for Anne to invite him back to Louis' bed.

Finally, Anne waved the children back. Harry was the first to jump up and snatch Louis' hand. The grown-ups had already taken enough time with Louis. But much to Harry's disdain, Louis was asleep. He'd run out of time with Louis today, all because everyone decided to visit at the same time. He had the most amazing story to tell Louis, one that would have made him laugh until he was crying, but he would have to wait until next time.

Harry was sure there would be a next time.

♛ ♛ ♛

Harry forgot the story he was going to tell Louis, but he had a whole new story to tell him this time. And gifts, also. With the cardboard crown in hand, Harry toddled into his parent's room five days after the awkward visit. He showed his mother the craft he'd made for Louis and asked if she could take him to see Louis. Anne said that she needed to ask Louis' mom first. This was the first thing that made Harry nervous.

Harry waited patiently on his mom's bed, legs dangling off the side. It took her a very long time to get off the phone and emerge from her bathroom. When she did, the look on her face was the second thing that worried Harry.

"Now's not a good time." She told Harry in a tight voice. Harry pouted and slid off the bed.

"Why not?" Harry whined.

"Louis is-" she hesitated. "He's just not ready for visitors."

So Harry waited for a few hours. Between then and dinner, he propped himself up on the couch and lost track of time in front of the telly. He could just barely hear his mother on the phone in the other room. Every time she would hang up, she would call someone else. She called Harry's dad, Louis' mom at least three times, the hospital, Harry's dad again. He heard Louis' name multiple times over his cartoons and he wondered what was wrong.

After dinner and after the sun had disappeared, he heard his mom begin to cry in the kitchen. He immediately switched off the TV. Gemma came downstairs with a knowing look. Harry's dad burst through the front door. He could hear the car still running out in the driveway as he forgot to shut the door after him. The shiny tears on his father's cheeks were the third thing that made Harry nervous.

He crept up to the kitchen and saw his mother hunched over the counter, sobbing into shaking hands. His father was wrapped around her like a shell, his shoulders shaking with hers. Harry had only ever seen his parents cry twice; once they got married, and another time when his grandma died. As far as he knew, none of his other grandparents were sick.

Harry stood outside the kitchen silently, so silently that any spy would have patted him on the back for it. He wasn't planning on entering until his mother lifted her head and saw him hovering in the doorway. Just the sight of her son, unaware and unable to comprehend, set her over the edge that she was already dangling off of. Harry had another fear that he was in b i g trouble.

"H-" Anne sobbed into her arm, motioning something like a wave to bring Harry to her. Harry obeyed with stiff legs, meeting her at the island with his hands behind his back. Anne cried into her elbow for another minute before addressing her son again. She stuttered and tripped over her tongue, mumbling something about Louis and his cancer. But Harry's ears were too young to distinguish her words from her sobs.

"I don't know what you said." Harry spoke in a small voice, afraid to call her out on her incoherent speech. His dad raised his head from Anne's shoulder then, the rim of his eyes red and irritated.

"Louis isn't- he isn't at the hospital anymore." His dad said in a trembling voice, his lip vibrating slightly. Instead of feeling scared, Harry now felt confused. Louis was home! These must be happy tears, then! Harry smiled ridiculously big, eyes lighting up. Louis was home, his best friend was finally home!

"Louis went home?" Harry squawked in that already raspy voice of his. His question sent his mom into resounding cries.

"No."

"Then... he went to get ice cream? He told me he was gonna get some ice cream soon as he got out!" Harry remembered Louis telling him about his plans for when he was released from the hospital. First was to get ice cream from the best ice cream shop in town. Then, he was going to ride his bike down the block to Harry's driveway. Lastly, Louis was going to grow his hair out longer than Harry's was before he cut it and wear it like a mo hawk. His mom already said he could.

"No, Harry." His dad separated himself from his mother, who stayed slumped over the counter, and he crouched next to Harry. "Mom told you-" He drew in a breath. "Louis was sick and they didn't know how to fix it?"

Harry nodded solemnly, not sure where his dad was going. If Louis was home, Harry wanted to go see him. He hadn't been to Louis' house in ages, and he had left his favorite dinosaur in the playroom there.

"Sometimes, when the doctors don't know how to fix cancer,"

His mom wailed, making Harry nearly jump out of his shoes.

"Sometimes-"

Anne dropped from the counter and wrapped her husband and her son in her arms. Her mascara was smudged under her eyes and tears streaked her red cheeks.

"Sometimes cancer makes people die."

Harry frowned. He didn't hug his mother back, or respond to his dad.

"Louis' cancer made him, die."

And Harry wasn't really sure what death was, or what it meant, but he did know his grandmother 'died' and he hasn't seen her since.

"But-" Harry couldn't think of what to say. He didn't want to be away from his best pal for ever! That was crazy talk. It was scary talk.

"Do you remember when we went to Grandma's funeral?" His father asked him. Harry nodded, because he did. It was cold and windy and he had to wear an uncomfortable suit and put gel in his hair. It was terrible. "Louis is going to have a funeral, too."

Harry remembered what happened at his grandma's funeral. She was in this box, his mom called it a casket. And they put the box in the ground and covered it up. Harry cried for hours because he knew people weren't supposed to be put in boxes in the ground. His parents had to explain to him that his grandma wasn't alive, and she was okay under the ground, and that's what happened when people passed away.

"MOM!" Harry burst into tears. The loud, snotty kind. His mom shook her head furiously and tightened her grip on Harry's shoulder.

♛ ♛ ♛

Harry slowed to a stop, the familiar sound of gravel crunching under tires echoing in his ears. He removed the keys from the ignition, but remained in his seat. From the enclosed protection of his car, Harry could see everything and he knew that at any given moment, he could jam the key back into its place and race away. He knew that behind the steering wheel, he was in control. Harry was safe, until he opened the door. Harry liked feeling brave as he swung open that car door.

He shoved his key ring down into his deep jeans pocket and exited the car, not bothering to be careful in shutting the door behind him. He knew it was customary to be quiet, to be solemn and silent, and he hated every bit of that. People who came here for the same reason Harry did would understand. They'd understand sound in a way that wasn't apparent to everyone else.

He didn't mind making the loose rock beneath his boots squeal as he made his way down the road. He zipped his jacket up, reveling in the noise it produced. All too soon, Harry stopped in the same place he did every time, under the same droopy tree. He dropped to a sitting position and leaned against the tree trunk. He breathed. Recently, Harry had to remind himself to do that. It's hard to remember how to stay alive when death is always lurking in your thoughts.

"Hi."

There was no answer, and of course, Harry knew there wouldn't be. There aren't many answers in places as empty as this. 

Harry wanted to be loud. He wanted to yell and stomp and scream and he wanted someone to shout back at him. He wanted to hear something other than the crushing reticence that was constantly squeezing the life out of him. People who came here for the same reason Harry did understood silence in a way that wasn't apparent to everyone else. After awhile, silence starts to sound like something. It sounds like death, to be particular. It sounded like absence, like loss, like heartbreak. Silence was the soundtrack to Harry's life, until he came here.

"I brought you something." He spoke loudly into the crisp air. After all, he had to speak with enough volume for his best friend to hear him from six feet underground. Harry took the small, plastic car from the pocket of his jacket and placed it carefully on top of Louis' grave. The visits stopped becoming painful for Harry after he turned sixteen. Before then, he rarely showed, and when he did, he sat in imprisoning stillness. He had driven himself to the graveyard the evening of his sixteenth birthday, new license in his wallet, and for the first time in six years, he had spoken to Louis.

Harry had conversations every week with Louis, now. Harry started his senior year of high school three months ago, and he'd spent almost every weekend next to Louis' headstone. And he was loud. He talked, he laughed, he told stories, he cracked jokes, he brought gifts and he painted. He slammed his car door every time and walked as noisily as he possibly could. He'd spent an entire childhood under the restrictions for people who's best friend had cancer. And then he'd spent the rest of his life under the restrictions for someone who's best friend died of cancer.

"I was at your house again today. I made Jay lunch and drove your sisters to dance class. Found this toy car in the garage, and I thought you might want it. I was going to put it back in your room, but what use is it there?" Harry explained. He reached out and rolled the car back and forth over the grass, demonstrating what it did, in case Louis forgot. "I also figured it might bring back some memories. We played with those hot wheels like they were our religion." Harry laughed at the ground.

Harry was alone at the graveyard, as he normally was. He felt most free when there was no one but him and Louis around. He could be as loud as he wanted without disturbing a single soul. He could defy every restriction that he had to live by and no one could stop him. Time didn't exist, other people didn't exist, the world couldn't find him here.

"You hung the moon and the stars for me, you know." He imagined Louis smirking back at him, shaking his head in disbelief. "You did. You made my entire world sing. I wasn't old enough to realize what was happening, though. Suddenly, my world stopped singing and I couldn't figure out why."

As if they were eavesdropping, a pair of birds began to call to each other with long and high notes. Harry giggled at the timing.

"It's singing again, my world. It's loudest when I am here with you." Harry looked up at the sky; perhaps Louis was looking down on him from way up there. He smiled at the clouds in case he was. "I'm tone-deaf, Louis. I'm so tone deaf, but I'm singing back. I hope you can hear me."


End file.
